and now, a fic!
And here we have ~4600 words of an AU thing spawned by omniocular's September challenge. (Life got in the way of me finishing it by the end of that month, but better late than never, one supposes.)
Some bits of this went up closer to the time, since the idea wouldn't leave me be, but... it's grown. Without further ado:
Wit Beyond Measure
(a prologue, of sorts:)
Word of your Sorting has come home, as you are probably aware; I must say, this is a most unusual situation. Of course, your cousins have noted a certain oddity in the Sorting Hat's idea of appropriate placement with regards to bloodlines before now. I had also held some hope that you might join your brother, and thus be able to mitigate some of his lingering rebellious tendencies; however, the environment of Slytherin House ought to bring him around eventually.
I trust that, in spite of the Hat's decision, you will remember to keep a close eye on the company you choose. I do not know from whence it acquired the notion that one may come from Muggle stock and be possessed of noteworthy intelligence. In light of this, you must above all remember who you are and act accordingly. You are better than these Mudblood pretenders; therefore, your company must be as well.
We expect great things of you.
-Mother
Regulus set the letter aside with a sigh. Three readings later, and he still couldn't tell if his mother was actually angry under all that formality. With any luck, he'd have a better idea of his chances of survival before he went home for Christmas hols.
***
Sirius found him in the library the next week.
"Thought you'd end up in here at some point."
"You could at least try to sound surprised."
"Well, I am, at least as far as where you got Sorted. I was expecting company. Congratulations on not making it there, by the way."
"Save your congratulations for after Christmas, if I survive."
"...Point taken. Have you heard from Mother yet?"
"Yes, as it happens. I don't think she's going to come hex me, but I can't tell whether she's upset. I almost wish she'd just sent me a Howler and had done with it. Then I'd at least know where I stood."
"Better you than me."
"I am deeply touched by your abounding sympathy for my plight."
Sirius grinned. "Any time. At least you didn't end up in Gryffindor?"
"Then she would come and hex me. Presuming I didn't get caught in the crossfire of your little prank war with Potter, that is. I've heard enough about that mess to know it didn't sound good for my health."
"...I was writing home to see if you had any ideas."
"And that's what's given you the leading edge, so far. That and whatever it was you and Snape were plotting over the summer."
"Just the doom of a Gryffindor. Mother couldn't help but approve of that. Anyway - I shouldn't have to ask you how your classes are going so far, considering, but are you at least making some useful friends?"
"When people aren't scared away by sheer force of the family reputation, yes. A few of them have heard I'm related to Bella and run the other way."
"Sweet of her, wasn't it?"
"Very. I'd much prefer the chance to scare people away by confusing them."
"...Put it like that, I'd say the Hat got you pegged."
(Some three years later...)
Everett Selwyn was in something of a hurry.
He didn't know how Dolores had found out about his experimental Exploding Snap deck, but find out she had, and she was quite prepared to confiscate it and turn him over to one of the faculty, despite not really holding any prefecture over his House. (And despite largely nominal family ties, but Dolores was loyal to the establishment first and foremost.)
People who wondered why Everett distrusted Hufflepuffs on principle often stopped wondering after they ran afoul of Dolores Umbridge. The end of spring term couldn't come quickly enough.
She wasn't fit enough to take the stairs as quickly as he could, so he paused for breath at a seventh-floor landing and headed down the corridor. Unfortunately, it came to a dead end near a tapestry. He sighed and started pacing, trying to figure out what he could do when Dolores cornered him. If only there were somewhere he could leave the deck for now, the better to come back after she'd given up the chase...
After his third pass by the tapestry, he noticed a door across the hall that certainly hadn't been there seconds ago. He only allowed himself to gawk for a second or two before opening it - one never learned anything by standing round looking like a prat. And anyway, Dolores was still on the warpath, for all it sounded like she was two floors down.
The room on the other side was packed to the gills with things that looked like, in several cases, they'd been there for centuries. Everett knew an opportunity to hide both himself and his cards when he saw one, so he ducked down a path within the chaos and started looking for a good place to leave the deck.
Of course, the nature of his hiding place distracted him for a while, but he supposed that was only to be expected. The sheer variety of things people had thought to store in here was fascinating - bottles of congealed potions, enough books to at least double the size of the school library, some sort of tiara, broken furniture, the beginnings of a Chocolate Frog card collection--
Everett paused, and doubled back to the tiara. It was badly tarnished, and the delicate construction looked familiar, though he couldn't place why at first. Upon closer examination, he noticed the most substantial parts of the design were engraved with letters.
And the only other place he'd seen wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure on a headpiece was on the founder's statue in the common room (which just wasn't the same, these days, without Lovegood trying to replicate the effects of Ravenclaw's long-lost artifact).
Clearly, someone else needed to know about this. But no one would believe him without evidence, and he couldn't just carry the thing around the halls - particularly if Dolores had caught up enough to lie in wait. What he needed was a box.
Everett blinked at the box that he could swear had just appeared next to the diadem, then shrugged and put his prize inside, as well as his deck of cards.
When he made his way back out of the maze of abandoned objects and to the door, he discovered that Dolores was nowhere in sight or earshot. Presuming she'd lost track of him and given up the chase for the time being, he headed for the stairs and back toward the dormitory. With any luck, someone who would appreciate his discovery would be on hand.
***
The Ravenclaw common room was not the sort of place one sought out when looking for a party. Fortunately, all Regulus was looking for was somewhere to study in peace until Davies had finished talking in his sleep to his heart's content. The prophecy wasn't going to interpret itself, and since it didn't mention Quidditch once, Regulus couldn't afford that kind of distraction.
Of course, studying in the common room also meant being the first audience to things like Selwyn tearing in, half out of breath and carrying a box.
"Oh, good. I was hoping someone would be in here."
Regulus raised an eyebrow. "What's got into you?"
"Well... firstly, you haven't seen Dolores in the last half-hour or so, have you?"
"No, but I haven't really been out of the dorm to do so. What did she find out about this time?"
"My Exploding Snap deck. I suppose she's given up chase for the time being. Anyway, while I was looking for a hiding place, I found something else." he set the box down on an end table, opened it, and removed a rather tarnished tiara.
"Odd, Selwyn, I didn't know you were taking an interest in women's jewelry."
"Not my point at all - take a closer look."
So Regulus did; when he noticed the inscription, he frowned and looked toward the founder's statue.
Selwyn nodded. "I think it's genuine."
"First, we need to work out whether it is. Second, we need to determine whether it's been cursed."
"You say that about everything, Black."
"Consider my family for a moment. Other than Sirius and Andromeda."
"...I concede the point. How do you recommend we go about this, then?"
"We should be able to do the work in the common room, since Lovegood's not around to take an interest, but I do think this needs to stay within the House until we have some answers. The last thing we need is Dumbledore sticking his nose in."
"You think he wouldn't have answers?"
"I think he would have assumptions, which would be rather less than helpful under the circumstances."
Selwyn grimaced. "Or ever. To the library, then?"
***
They went through everything in the library about the history surrounding Hogwarts and its founders during their free time over the next few weeks, but every book said the same thing - the diadem was lost to the mists of time, presumed destroyed.
Everett closed the latest book to tell them as much with a sigh. "But we have it right here, at least probably. I may have to throw the next book to say it's lost across the room."
"You'd never do that. You respect books too much."
"But surely you see my point. The simplest way to determine whether we have the genuine artifact would be for one of us to try it on."
Black sighed. "And if all you got for your trouble was cursed, you'd feel like a prat afterward. Presuming it didn't kill you outright, of course."
"If we have a long-lost founder's artifact, we ought to let people know."
"But if it's cursed, and rest assured this thought pains me as well, we might have to destroy it, genuine or not. Sometimes that's the only way to lift curses on objects. Mother's used that approach with Sirius and myself more times than I can count."
"Are you sure you're not being excessively paranoid about this?"
"If it keeps us alive, I'll take it. Besides, you've been getting testier and testier since we've been trying to puzzle this thing out--"
"Oh, my."
They looked up from their argument to find the Grey Lady had floated into the common room, and was looking at the diadem as though - Everett couldn't have stopped the comparison if he'd tried - she had just seen a ghost.
Black regained his composure first. "What is it?"
"How did that get here? It ought to be in Albania."
Everett shrugged. "I found it in the building. What makes you say Albania?"
The Grey Lady sighed. "I left it there. Mother meant well in making it, but it causes far more trouble than it's worth."
***
The two of them extracted the whole story from the Grey Lady, after clearing up that they had no plans to put the diadem to its intended use. Regulus asked if she had told the story to anyone else over the years, hoping that could point them toward how it got back to Hogwarts; she provided the name, and he took it and went to the genealogy books his mother insisted he keep close at hand.
But there were no Riddles in the main entries of any of them. Despite that, he couldn't help thinking the name sounded familiar. So he kept looking, and finally turned up what he was after - as an afterthought in Nature's Nobility.
Selwyn wasn't terribly impressed by that. "That's it?"
"He's the only Riddle who's been in any position to go to Hogwarts. The first name matches what the Grey Lady told us - I would guess the middle name's from his mother's family."
"And I don't suppose, given the circumstances, we're dealing with the sort of book that would tell us what he's doing these days."
"No, rather." Regulus sighed; while knowing where the diadem's probable retriever had got to wasn't strictly necessary, he was hoping it could give them some idea as to whether the thing had been cursed.
"I could try an anagram charm on it, if you'd like. Other than recently, I haven't heard the name, so it's possible he made himself a pseudonym."
"I'd hope if he did so, he had the sense to distance himself from his given name entirely. Still, it can't hurt to try."
Two days later, Selwyn's charm produced an answer that stopped both of them in their tracks. Once they recovered, they agreed with minimal commentary to get to the bottom of the situation as quickly as they could.
***
Sirius tended to avoid the family library if at all possible. The layout had given him nightmares before he learned how to read; after that, the content of most of the books was more than enough to do the job. But he'd left his Charms textbook at school, he at least needed to get a start on the essay before hols ended, and he didn't dare to write to Evans for help when Kreacher would be screening the incoming post, so the library it was.
Regulus, it turned out, had already settled in with something to read. On the grounds that company in the library was always a good thing, Sirius picked out the books he thought would help the most and joined his brother at the reading table.
"So the rumors are true," Regulus said, when he finally noticed the intrusion. "You do know what to do when confronted with a room full of books."
"We can't all enjoy research as much as you. Besides, I left my textbook at school, and if I come back empty-handed I'll never hear the end of it. What about you - is that for school, or just light reading?"
"Somewhere between the two, so far as anything in this library could be called light reading. Selwyn and I need a few answers about something he found, and the school library isn't likely to help."
"Oh?"
"Would you believe a long-lost founder's artifact that Bella's fearless leader found, probably cursed, and brought back to Hogwarts?"
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "It does sound like a bit much to swallow, but I doubt you'd make it up without good cause."
"Good cause hasn't presented itself. The artifact has." Regulus sighed. "I'm just glad Lovegood's left school. He'd have tried the bloody thing on first and asked questions later."
"And that would likely have ended in tears. Do you know what's been done to it?"
"Not yet, but the available information has me wondering whether he's been hedging his chances of immortality."
"By cursing a founder's artifact? Seems a rather roundabout way to get to the point."
"Not to mention unsafe, and hardly the most practical option. For Merlin's sake, there's a Philosopher's Stone out there somewhere. If he'd nicked that, he'd have his immortality and unlimited funding."
"...I think I'm glad you're taking a critical approach."
"Whatever Mother and Bella may think of the man, there are far too many gaps in his logic. Incidentally, if Mother gets after you about politics, you might be able to call her off by pointing out you have no reason to take orders from a half-blood."
"Really. That's very interesting. I'll have to remember that tidbit."
"I'd thought you might. And in any case, Bella has a habit of taking up pursuits that are less than optimal for one's long-term health."
Sirius couldn't help a wry grin. "Too right. What are you and your friend planning on doing with this thing?"
"That's going to depend on where the research takes us. But we're not telling Dumbledore unless and until we can't avoid it - this is not the time for his assumptions."
"Well, if you want some outside perspectives, I can probably get Evans and Severus on the case, after we get our latest project finished."
Regulus raised an eyebrow. "I thought you lot called a truce with Potter last year?"
"Yes, but we finally have the knowledge to pull off that trouser-mice idea, and it would be an utter pity to let something that good go to waste. Anyway, Potter's decided to start swooning over Lily, and she intends to point out that she's still not impressed in the slightest."
"Ah. One of those situations. An outside perspective or three likely would do us some good, once the lot of you are done messing about with Potter's trousers."
Sirius wrinkled his nose. "Make it sound like any of us are taking an interest, why don't you?"
"Extract your mind from the gutter for three seconds. You know perfectly well what I meant."
***
Everett didn't have much opportunity to research the artifact problem over Christmas; the bulk of the holiday went to visiting extended family, and his parents had sold off the majority of their book collection a few years previously, to counter a miniature financial crisis. And while he knew Black would likely find at least half of what they were looking for, he still found it a bit frustrating that he couldn't help as much as he would have liked. He made up the balance, at least in part, by reading as much about curse removal as he could, in the hopes they would be able to solve the problem without destroying the diadem.
The answers Black returned to school with, though, were more than enough to give him pause.
"Really, a piece of his--"
"Well, I'm not entirely certain, but that seems most likely, among the options I found in the library. Of course, given my family, that does us little good in sorting out how to solve the problem."
Everett sighed. "I might have known there would be a catch. Or two, if we do have to sacrifice a founder's artifact in the bargain."
"Quite. Sirius offered to get his friends on the case, which might prove useful - there's a good chance they'll think of something we wouldn't."
"True, but... can we trust them to stay quiet about this? The whole school needn't know."
"We're discussing one half of the largest prank war to grace Hogwarts in at least five centuries. If anyone can pitch in and keep their mouths shut, those three can."
"All right. If you're sure, then all right. An outside perspective that's not likely to barrage us with assumptions could well do us some good."
***
They tried a number of approaches to the problem over the next few months. Lily found it a challenging diversion to Potter's ceaseless attempts at romance - really, one would have thought all of his trousers Transfigured into mice, Charmed into animation, and dosed with a variety of discomfort-causing potions would have been hint enough she wasn't interested, but he seemed to take it as a sign he should try even harder. In any case, trying to work out what to do about the cursed diadem gave her something else to focus on, and spared her from giving Potter the attention, positive or negative, he thought he deserved.
They started with a curse detector, just to make sure the Ravenclaw boys had been on the right track; whatever was on the diadem was so strong it almost caused the detection charm to self-destruct. From there, they moved on to Selwyn's battery of curse removals, but none of them did the trick.
As it began to look more and more like they would have to destroy the diadem in order to get the curse off it, Severus set a Dissolving Potion to brewing. Even at the potion's strongest, though, the thing remained annoyingly intact. If Lily hadn't known better, she would have thought it was taunting them.
...Then again, Regulus had said they were fairly certain Voldemort was involved. If that were the case, being taunted by an inanimate object probably wasn't out of the question.
They disbanded for Easter hols with nothing more accomplished than a long, long list of things that had failed to work. Lily found herself contemplating the whole mess while attempting to fix lunch in the middle of the week. Her parents had picked up a new microwave oven, and she'd decided a warm sandwich would be better than cold roast beef - if only she could sort out the controls. Her mother had already warned her not to put silverware or foil in the machine, since some part of the heating process didn't react well to metals.
That thought gave her pause, and also led her to consider another problem with the group's methodology so far. By the end of the evening, she had procured permission to take her father's Polaroid back to school, and a promise from Severus to accompany her to the nearest scrap yard before the end of the holiday.
She hadn't explained her point as well as she'd wanted to in her quick note, so he was still a bit baffled as they headed for the scrap yard two days later.
"Why are we doing this, again?"
"Because I thought of something we haven't been able to try at school, on the... independent project." She didn't much care for having to avoid direct terminology, but one never knew who might overhear, and in the end, awkward phrasing was better than having to wipe people's memories.
"I don't see how we're going to find anything at the scrap yard that might help."
"If there's a microwave oven, that should be enough. I think we'll have an easier time trying to adapt one that's not working properly in a standard setting to work where we need it to. Not to mention, it'll be cheaper to get one there, since we can't exactly get the Blacks in on this just yet."
Severus frowned. "A microwave oven?"
"They don't react well to metal. Given that, I wouldn't want it plugged into anything for the attempt anyway. But if we can get it running independently..."
"Ah. Then we might have a way to destroy that thing. I see where you're headed now. How would you be getting it back to school, though?"
They were nearly to the scrap yard, so Lily had to settle for giving him a look that she hoped conveyed the essence of, 'of the two of us, I'm the Charms expert here.'
***
The week after classes resumed, Regulus found Evans in the spare classroom the group had appropriated for its experimenting. She had an odd metal box in tow, as well as a camera, which she used to take a picture of the brightly glowing diadem; she must have recast the detection charm, for the sake of the photograph.
"Evans? What are you doing?"
She started a bit, then canceled the charm and turned around with a smile. "Documenting our progress, if somewhat belatedly." A white square of paper with a black spot in the middle emerged from the bottom of the camera, and she pulled it loose and began treating it like a fan. "It occurred to me over hols that we should have been keeping track of this from the start. How much of your original research do you and Selwyn still have?"
"Some of it just came from talking to the Grey Lady, but I'm fairly certain he's still got the paper from his anagram charm. Why?"
"The more we can give to Dumbledore after the fact, the less we'll be attempting to explain without evidence. And since we have to destroy your main piece of that, photos will have to do." Evans stopped fanning the camera paper, and Regulus found himself staring; the photograph she'd taken when he entered the room was already fully developed.
"What kind of charm is on that camera?"
"There isn't one - this is Dad's Polaroid, it was designed to develop that quickly. I borrowed it partly for that and partly so we can label the pictures on the front."
"I see. What's the metal box for, then?"
"This is a microwave oven. I'd have told you and Sirius the idea over hols, only I didn't think you'd see the end result of that, given your mother. Anyway, Muggles invented them to heat food quickly, though some part of the process doesn't react well with metals, particularly shiny ones."
"And the Dissolving Potion did at least clear up the tarnish. But if it's a Muggle thing, wouldn't that make it electric?"
"I went and found an old one. The motor's broken. We might be able to get it working with what we have here, if we're careful. Yes, it's slightly illegal, but we're not going to be selling the thing afterward - assuming it survives whatever happens - and we can always chalk it up to independent research."
Regulus smiled. "I rather like the way you think."
"Why, thank you."
***
Dear Professor Dumbledore:
This past November, one of our number discovered Ravenclaw's long-lost diadem (see fig. 1) in an unidentified seventh-floor room that seems to appear and disappear as it pleases. The Grey Lady confirmed its authenticity, and further detective work led us to the rather disturbing conclusion that Voldemort had taken an interest in the diadem, and quite possibly cursed it before returning it to Hogwarts. (Attached are the results of an anagram charm set to all possible results from a name the Grey Lady mentioned, with the key result circled.)
We discovered shortly after Christmas holidays that the diadem was indeed cursed, and quite strongly so (see fig. 2). While we do not know precisely what may have been done to it, some independent research suggests it was not at all pleasant, and might have been tied to Voldemort's quest for power. In any case, an exhaustive battery of known curse-removal spells had no effect on the diadem.
Having drawn the conclusion that the only solution likely involved destroying the diadem (a course of action which pained us as much as it would have any historian), we attempted a number of destructive spells and potions, none of which had any noticeable effect beyond tarnish removal (see fig. 3). A breakthrough finally came over Easter holidays, which necessitated adapting a Muggle microwave oven to run on energy charms rather than electricity, taking it and the diadem to a warded outdoor area, and 'cooking' the diadem. Fig. 4 features the results of the explosion; we have already made arrangements with Hagrid to see that the landscape damage is repaired.
Given the indeterminate nature of the curse, and the very well-known disposition of the person responsible for placing the curse, we feel it worth noting that there may be more such cursed items in existence. If you are planning some sort of resistance movement against Voldemort, please take this information into consideration. Perhaps you can discern the sort of curse used, as well as more appropriate means of lifting it.
Sincerely,
Regulus hesitated before picking up the quill. "You do realize it's not very likely that he's working on anything. And if he does, he won't be helping anyone he recruits do the dirty work."
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "And what makes you say that?"
"How often does he back up all of his talk with suitable actions?"
"...You've a point there, I suppose. Still, if we let him know, he's at least got something to point people toward."
"I reserve the right to turn him down if he tries to use this as a recruitment excuse."
"I think we're all reserving that right. Particularly if he comes round after this bit of news with no plan to investigate whether there's more out there."
"Well, so long as I'm not the only one. He'll have a harder time pressuring five people into bending to his whims." That decided, Regulus signed the letter under his brother's signature.
Some bits of this went up closer to the time, since the idea wouldn't leave me be, but... it's grown. Without further ado:
Wit Beyond Measure
(a prologue, of sorts:)
Word of your Sorting has come home, as you are probably aware; I must say, this is a most unusual situation. Of course, your cousins have noted a certain oddity in the Sorting Hat's idea of appropriate placement with regards to bloodlines before now. I had also held some hope that you might join your brother, and thus be able to mitigate some of his lingering rebellious tendencies; however, the environment of Slytherin House ought to bring him around eventually.
I trust that, in spite of the Hat's decision, you will remember to keep a close eye on the company you choose. I do not know from whence it acquired the notion that one may come from Muggle stock and be possessed of noteworthy intelligence. In light of this, you must above all remember who you are and act accordingly. You are better than these Mudblood pretenders; therefore, your company must be as well.
We expect great things of you.
-Mother
Regulus set the letter aside with a sigh. Three readings later, and he still couldn't tell if his mother was actually angry under all that formality. With any luck, he'd have a better idea of his chances of survival before he went home for Christmas hols.
***
Sirius found him in the library the next week.
"Thought you'd end up in here at some point."
"You could at least try to sound surprised."
"Well, I am, at least as far as where you got Sorted. I was expecting company. Congratulations on not making it there, by the way."
"Save your congratulations for after Christmas, if I survive."
"...Point taken. Have you heard from Mother yet?"
"Yes, as it happens. I don't think she's going to come hex me, but I can't tell whether she's upset. I almost wish she'd just sent me a Howler and had done with it. Then I'd at least know where I stood."
"Better you than me."
"I am deeply touched by your abounding sympathy for my plight."
Sirius grinned. "Any time. At least you didn't end up in Gryffindor?"
"Then she would come and hex me. Presuming I didn't get caught in the crossfire of your little prank war with Potter, that is. I've heard enough about that mess to know it didn't sound good for my health."
"...I was writing home to see if you had any ideas."
"And that's what's given you the leading edge, so far. That and whatever it was you and Snape were plotting over the summer."
"Just the doom of a Gryffindor. Mother couldn't help but approve of that. Anyway - I shouldn't have to ask you how your classes are going so far, considering, but are you at least making some useful friends?"
"When people aren't scared away by sheer force of the family reputation, yes. A few of them have heard I'm related to Bella and run the other way."
"Sweet of her, wasn't it?"
"Very. I'd much prefer the chance to scare people away by confusing them."
"...Put it like that, I'd say the Hat got you pegged."
(Some three years later...)
Everett Selwyn was in something of a hurry.
He didn't know how Dolores had found out about his experimental Exploding Snap deck, but find out she had, and she was quite prepared to confiscate it and turn him over to one of the faculty, despite not really holding any prefecture over his House. (And despite largely nominal family ties, but Dolores was loyal to the establishment first and foremost.)
People who wondered why Everett distrusted Hufflepuffs on principle often stopped wondering after they ran afoul of Dolores Umbridge. The end of spring term couldn't come quickly enough.
She wasn't fit enough to take the stairs as quickly as he could, so he paused for breath at a seventh-floor landing and headed down the corridor. Unfortunately, it came to a dead end near a tapestry. He sighed and started pacing, trying to figure out what he could do when Dolores cornered him. If only there were somewhere he could leave the deck for now, the better to come back after she'd given up the chase...
After his third pass by the tapestry, he noticed a door across the hall that certainly hadn't been there seconds ago. He only allowed himself to gawk for a second or two before opening it - one never learned anything by standing round looking like a prat. And anyway, Dolores was still on the warpath, for all it sounded like she was two floors down.
The room on the other side was packed to the gills with things that looked like, in several cases, they'd been there for centuries. Everett knew an opportunity to hide both himself and his cards when he saw one, so he ducked down a path within the chaos and started looking for a good place to leave the deck.
Of course, the nature of his hiding place distracted him for a while, but he supposed that was only to be expected. The sheer variety of things people had thought to store in here was fascinating - bottles of congealed potions, enough books to at least double the size of the school library, some sort of tiara, broken furniture, the beginnings of a Chocolate Frog card collection--
Everett paused, and doubled back to the tiara. It was badly tarnished, and the delicate construction looked familiar, though he couldn't place why at first. Upon closer examination, he noticed the most substantial parts of the design were engraved with letters.
And the only other place he'd seen wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure on a headpiece was on the founder's statue in the common room (which just wasn't the same, these days, without Lovegood trying to replicate the effects of Ravenclaw's long-lost artifact).
Clearly, someone else needed to know about this. But no one would believe him without evidence, and he couldn't just carry the thing around the halls - particularly if Dolores had caught up enough to lie in wait. What he needed was a box.
Everett blinked at the box that he could swear had just appeared next to the diadem, then shrugged and put his prize inside, as well as his deck of cards.
When he made his way back out of the maze of abandoned objects and to the door, he discovered that Dolores was nowhere in sight or earshot. Presuming she'd lost track of him and given up the chase for the time being, he headed for the stairs and back toward the dormitory. With any luck, someone who would appreciate his discovery would be on hand.
***
The Ravenclaw common room was not the sort of place one sought out when looking for a party. Fortunately, all Regulus was looking for was somewhere to study in peace until Davies had finished talking in his sleep to his heart's content. The prophecy wasn't going to interpret itself, and since it didn't mention Quidditch once, Regulus couldn't afford that kind of distraction.
Of course, studying in the common room also meant being the first audience to things like Selwyn tearing in, half out of breath and carrying a box.
"Oh, good. I was hoping someone would be in here."
Regulus raised an eyebrow. "What's got into you?"
"Well... firstly, you haven't seen Dolores in the last half-hour or so, have you?"
"No, but I haven't really been out of the dorm to do so. What did she find out about this time?"
"My Exploding Snap deck. I suppose she's given up chase for the time being. Anyway, while I was looking for a hiding place, I found something else." he set the box down on an end table, opened it, and removed a rather tarnished tiara.
"Odd, Selwyn, I didn't know you were taking an interest in women's jewelry."
"Not my point at all - take a closer look."
So Regulus did; when he noticed the inscription, he frowned and looked toward the founder's statue.
Selwyn nodded. "I think it's genuine."
"First, we need to work out whether it is. Second, we need to determine whether it's been cursed."
"You say that about everything, Black."
"Consider my family for a moment. Other than Sirius and Andromeda."
"...I concede the point. How do you recommend we go about this, then?"
"We should be able to do the work in the common room, since Lovegood's not around to take an interest, but I do think this needs to stay within the House until we have some answers. The last thing we need is Dumbledore sticking his nose in."
"You think he wouldn't have answers?"
"I think he would have assumptions, which would be rather less than helpful under the circumstances."
Selwyn grimaced. "Or ever. To the library, then?"
***
They went through everything in the library about the history surrounding Hogwarts and its founders during their free time over the next few weeks, but every book said the same thing - the diadem was lost to the mists of time, presumed destroyed.
Everett closed the latest book to tell them as much with a sigh. "But we have it right here, at least probably. I may have to throw the next book to say it's lost across the room."
"You'd never do that. You respect books too much."
"But surely you see my point. The simplest way to determine whether we have the genuine artifact would be for one of us to try it on."
Black sighed. "And if all you got for your trouble was cursed, you'd feel like a prat afterward. Presuming it didn't kill you outright, of course."
"If we have a long-lost founder's artifact, we ought to let people know."
"But if it's cursed, and rest assured this thought pains me as well, we might have to destroy it, genuine or not. Sometimes that's the only way to lift curses on objects. Mother's used that approach with Sirius and myself more times than I can count."
"Are you sure you're not being excessively paranoid about this?"
"If it keeps us alive, I'll take it. Besides, you've been getting testier and testier since we've been trying to puzzle this thing out--"
"Oh, my."
They looked up from their argument to find the Grey Lady had floated into the common room, and was looking at the diadem as though - Everett couldn't have stopped the comparison if he'd tried - she had just seen a ghost.
Black regained his composure first. "What is it?"
"How did that get here? It ought to be in Albania."
Everett shrugged. "I found it in the building. What makes you say Albania?"
The Grey Lady sighed. "I left it there. Mother meant well in making it, but it causes far more trouble than it's worth."
***
The two of them extracted the whole story from the Grey Lady, after clearing up that they had no plans to put the diadem to its intended use. Regulus asked if she had told the story to anyone else over the years, hoping that could point them toward how it got back to Hogwarts; she provided the name, and he took it and went to the genealogy books his mother insisted he keep close at hand.
But there were no Riddles in the main entries of any of them. Despite that, he couldn't help thinking the name sounded familiar. So he kept looking, and finally turned up what he was after - as an afterthought in Nature's Nobility.
Selwyn wasn't terribly impressed by that. "That's it?"
"He's the only Riddle who's been in any position to go to Hogwarts. The first name matches what the Grey Lady told us - I would guess the middle name's from his mother's family."
"And I don't suppose, given the circumstances, we're dealing with the sort of book that would tell us what he's doing these days."
"No, rather." Regulus sighed; while knowing where the diadem's probable retriever had got to wasn't strictly necessary, he was hoping it could give them some idea as to whether the thing had been cursed.
"I could try an anagram charm on it, if you'd like. Other than recently, I haven't heard the name, so it's possible he made himself a pseudonym."
"I'd hope if he did so, he had the sense to distance himself from his given name entirely. Still, it can't hurt to try."
Two days later, Selwyn's charm produced an answer that stopped both of them in their tracks. Once they recovered, they agreed with minimal commentary to get to the bottom of the situation as quickly as they could.
***
Sirius tended to avoid the family library if at all possible. The layout had given him nightmares before he learned how to read; after that, the content of most of the books was more than enough to do the job. But he'd left his Charms textbook at school, he at least needed to get a start on the essay before hols ended, and he didn't dare to write to Evans for help when Kreacher would be screening the incoming post, so the library it was.
Regulus, it turned out, had already settled in with something to read. On the grounds that company in the library was always a good thing, Sirius picked out the books he thought would help the most and joined his brother at the reading table.
"So the rumors are true," Regulus said, when he finally noticed the intrusion. "You do know what to do when confronted with a room full of books."
"We can't all enjoy research as much as you. Besides, I left my textbook at school, and if I come back empty-handed I'll never hear the end of it. What about you - is that for school, or just light reading?"
"Somewhere between the two, so far as anything in this library could be called light reading. Selwyn and I need a few answers about something he found, and the school library isn't likely to help."
"Oh?"
"Would you believe a long-lost founder's artifact that Bella's fearless leader found, probably cursed, and brought back to Hogwarts?"
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "It does sound like a bit much to swallow, but I doubt you'd make it up without good cause."
"Good cause hasn't presented itself. The artifact has." Regulus sighed. "I'm just glad Lovegood's left school. He'd have tried the bloody thing on first and asked questions later."
"And that would likely have ended in tears. Do you know what's been done to it?"
"Not yet, but the available information has me wondering whether he's been hedging his chances of immortality."
"By cursing a founder's artifact? Seems a rather roundabout way to get to the point."
"Not to mention unsafe, and hardly the most practical option. For Merlin's sake, there's a Philosopher's Stone out there somewhere. If he'd nicked that, he'd have his immortality and unlimited funding."
"...I think I'm glad you're taking a critical approach."
"Whatever Mother and Bella may think of the man, there are far too many gaps in his logic. Incidentally, if Mother gets after you about politics, you might be able to call her off by pointing out you have no reason to take orders from a half-blood."
"Really. That's very interesting. I'll have to remember that tidbit."
"I'd thought you might. And in any case, Bella has a habit of taking up pursuits that are less than optimal for one's long-term health."
Sirius couldn't help a wry grin. "Too right. What are you and your friend planning on doing with this thing?"
"That's going to depend on where the research takes us. But we're not telling Dumbledore unless and until we can't avoid it - this is not the time for his assumptions."
"Well, if you want some outside perspectives, I can probably get Evans and Severus on the case, after we get our latest project finished."
Regulus raised an eyebrow. "I thought you lot called a truce with Potter last year?"
"Yes, but we finally have the knowledge to pull off that trouser-mice idea, and it would be an utter pity to let something that good go to waste. Anyway, Potter's decided to start swooning over Lily, and she intends to point out that she's still not impressed in the slightest."
"Ah. One of those situations. An outside perspective or three likely would do us some good, once the lot of you are done messing about with Potter's trousers."
Sirius wrinkled his nose. "Make it sound like any of us are taking an interest, why don't you?"
"Extract your mind from the gutter for three seconds. You know perfectly well what I meant."
***
Everett didn't have much opportunity to research the artifact problem over Christmas; the bulk of the holiday went to visiting extended family, and his parents had sold off the majority of their book collection a few years previously, to counter a miniature financial crisis. And while he knew Black would likely find at least half of what they were looking for, he still found it a bit frustrating that he couldn't help as much as he would have liked. He made up the balance, at least in part, by reading as much about curse removal as he could, in the hopes they would be able to solve the problem without destroying the diadem.
The answers Black returned to school with, though, were more than enough to give him pause.
"Really, a piece of his--"
"Well, I'm not entirely certain, but that seems most likely, among the options I found in the library. Of course, given my family, that does us little good in sorting out how to solve the problem."
Everett sighed. "I might have known there would be a catch. Or two, if we do have to sacrifice a founder's artifact in the bargain."
"Quite. Sirius offered to get his friends on the case, which might prove useful - there's a good chance they'll think of something we wouldn't."
"True, but... can we trust them to stay quiet about this? The whole school needn't know."
"We're discussing one half of the largest prank war to grace Hogwarts in at least five centuries. If anyone can pitch in and keep their mouths shut, those three can."
"All right. If you're sure, then all right. An outside perspective that's not likely to barrage us with assumptions could well do us some good."
***
They tried a number of approaches to the problem over the next few months. Lily found it a challenging diversion to Potter's ceaseless attempts at romance - really, one would have thought all of his trousers Transfigured into mice, Charmed into animation, and dosed with a variety of discomfort-causing potions would have been hint enough she wasn't interested, but he seemed to take it as a sign he should try even harder. In any case, trying to work out what to do about the cursed diadem gave her something else to focus on, and spared her from giving Potter the attention, positive or negative, he thought he deserved.
They started with a curse detector, just to make sure the Ravenclaw boys had been on the right track; whatever was on the diadem was so strong it almost caused the detection charm to self-destruct. From there, they moved on to Selwyn's battery of curse removals, but none of them did the trick.
As it began to look more and more like they would have to destroy the diadem in order to get the curse off it, Severus set a Dissolving Potion to brewing. Even at the potion's strongest, though, the thing remained annoyingly intact. If Lily hadn't known better, she would have thought it was taunting them.
...Then again, Regulus had said they were fairly certain Voldemort was involved. If that were the case, being taunted by an inanimate object probably wasn't out of the question.
They disbanded for Easter hols with nothing more accomplished than a long, long list of things that had failed to work. Lily found herself contemplating the whole mess while attempting to fix lunch in the middle of the week. Her parents had picked up a new microwave oven, and she'd decided a warm sandwich would be better than cold roast beef - if only she could sort out the controls. Her mother had already warned her not to put silverware or foil in the machine, since some part of the heating process didn't react well to metals.
That thought gave her pause, and also led her to consider another problem with the group's methodology so far. By the end of the evening, she had procured permission to take her father's Polaroid back to school, and a promise from Severus to accompany her to the nearest scrap yard before the end of the holiday.
She hadn't explained her point as well as she'd wanted to in her quick note, so he was still a bit baffled as they headed for the scrap yard two days later.
"Why are we doing this, again?"
"Because I thought of something we haven't been able to try at school, on the... independent project." She didn't much care for having to avoid direct terminology, but one never knew who might overhear, and in the end, awkward phrasing was better than having to wipe people's memories.
"I don't see how we're going to find anything at the scrap yard that might help."
"If there's a microwave oven, that should be enough. I think we'll have an easier time trying to adapt one that's not working properly in a standard setting to work where we need it to. Not to mention, it'll be cheaper to get one there, since we can't exactly get the Blacks in on this just yet."
Severus frowned. "A microwave oven?"
"They don't react well to metal. Given that, I wouldn't want it plugged into anything for the attempt anyway. But if we can get it running independently..."
"Ah. Then we might have a way to destroy that thing. I see where you're headed now. How would you be getting it back to school, though?"
They were nearly to the scrap yard, so Lily had to settle for giving him a look that she hoped conveyed the essence of, 'of the two of us, I'm the Charms expert here.'
***
The week after classes resumed, Regulus found Evans in the spare classroom the group had appropriated for its experimenting. She had an odd metal box in tow, as well as a camera, which she used to take a picture of the brightly glowing diadem; she must have recast the detection charm, for the sake of the photograph.
"Evans? What are you doing?"
She started a bit, then canceled the charm and turned around with a smile. "Documenting our progress, if somewhat belatedly." A white square of paper with a black spot in the middle emerged from the bottom of the camera, and she pulled it loose and began treating it like a fan. "It occurred to me over hols that we should have been keeping track of this from the start. How much of your original research do you and Selwyn still have?"
"Some of it just came from talking to the Grey Lady, but I'm fairly certain he's still got the paper from his anagram charm. Why?"
"The more we can give to Dumbledore after the fact, the less we'll be attempting to explain without evidence. And since we have to destroy your main piece of that, photos will have to do." Evans stopped fanning the camera paper, and Regulus found himself staring; the photograph she'd taken when he entered the room was already fully developed.
"What kind of charm is on that camera?"
"There isn't one - this is Dad's Polaroid, it was designed to develop that quickly. I borrowed it partly for that and partly so we can label the pictures on the front."
"I see. What's the metal box for, then?"
"This is a microwave oven. I'd have told you and Sirius the idea over hols, only I didn't think you'd see the end result of that, given your mother. Anyway, Muggles invented them to heat food quickly, though some part of the process doesn't react well with metals, particularly shiny ones."
"And the Dissolving Potion did at least clear up the tarnish. But if it's a Muggle thing, wouldn't that make it electric?"
"I went and found an old one. The motor's broken. We might be able to get it working with what we have here, if we're careful. Yes, it's slightly illegal, but we're not going to be selling the thing afterward - assuming it survives whatever happens - and we can always chalk it up to independent research."
Regulus smiled. "I rather like the way you think."
"Why, thank you."
***
Dear Professor Dumbledore:
This past November, one of our number discovered Ravenclaw's long-lost diadem (see fig. 1) in an unidentified seventh-floor room that seems to appear and disappear as it pleases. The Grey Lady confirmed its authenticity, and further detective work led us to the rather disturbing conclusion that Voldemort had taken an interest in the diadem, and quite possibly cursed it before returning it to Hogwarts. (Attached are the results of an anagram charm set to all possible results from a name the Grey Lady mentioned, with the key result circled.)
We discovered shortly after Christmas holidays that the diadem was indeed cursed, and quite strongly so (see fig. 2). While we do not know precisely what may have been done to it, some independent research suggests it was not at all pleasant, and might have been tied to Voldemort's quest for power. In any case, an exhaustive battery of known curse-removal spells had no effect on the diadem.
Having drawn the conclusion that the only solution likely involved destroying the diadem (a course of action which pained us as much as it would have any historian), we attempted a number of destructive spells and potions, none of which had any noticeable effect beyond tarnish removal (see fig. 3). A breakthrough finally came over Easter holidays, which necessitated adapting a Muggle microwave oven to run on energy charms rather than electricity, taking it and the diadem to a warded outdoor area, and 'cooking' the diadem. Fig. 4 features the results of the explosion; we have already made arrangements with Hagrid to see that the landscape damage is repaired.
Given the indeterminate nature of the curse, and the very well-known disposition of the person responsible for placing the curse, we feel it worth noting that there may be more such cursed items in existence. If you are planning some sort of resistance movement against Voldemort, please take this information into consideration. Perhaps you can discern the sort of curse used, as well as more appropriate means of lifting it.
Sincerely,
Regulus hesitated before picking up the quill. "You do realize it's not very likely that he's working on anything. And if he does, he won't be helping anyone he recruits do the dirty work."
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "And what makes you say that?"
"How often does he back up all of his talk with suitable actions?"
"...You've a point there, I suppose. Still, if we let him know, he's at least got something to point people toward."
"I reserve the right to turn him down if he tries to use this as a recruitment excuse."
"I think we're all reserving that right. Particularly if he comes round after this bit of news with no plan to investigate whether there's more out there."
"Well, so long as I'm not the only one. He'll have a harder time pressuring five people into bending to his whims." That decided, Regulus signed the letter under his brother's signature.